1907 Turtle Ninjas - A Parenting Vignette
by Romantic Nerd
Summary: A quick one-shot from William and Julia in my made-up life for them. Just for fun.


1907 Turtle Ninjas - A Parenting Vignette

"William Henry Murdoch!" her voice bellowed through the house, resonating with shock, and feigned anger, and sternness, and teasing, "What on Earth did you do to make such a mess!?" Julia held back her urge to giggle at the stunning sight of William's and William Jr.'s mud-soaked clothing huddled into a pile in the center of the kitchen floor, surrounded by goopy, muddy footprints. They seemed to fan outward from the pile, managing to spread out to just about everywhere she could see. _She spied mud-marks on the icebox… on the walls!_

Neither of the men in her life were within sight.

There was a stuttering and a rustling from above her as she heard William begin to try to explain from up in the upstairs bathroom, and she figured to herself, wryly, that he was trying to wash away some of the evidence.

"I… uh, we. We were… Well we went for a walk in the woods…" he yelled to get his voice across the distance. There was a grunt. And then his footsteps could be heard hurrying as he made his way down to face the music.

Julia barely held her giggles at bay at the sight of him – spatters of mud smudges on his gorgeous face, wearing nothing more than his long-johns, which appeared to be thoroughly drenched through to the skin in various places, making his manhood distinctly discernible. In his arms was their three-year old son, bathed and wrapped in a comfy, fluffy, towel.

"You're… early," he said, as his big, brown, beautiful eyes glanced into hers…

" _Worried. He looked worried_ ," she thought to herself, " _Thinks he's in trouble."_ And then she melted at the expression of relief upon his face. He could see right through her, right through to her hidden laughter, her humor, and her undeniable love for him. Clearly her attempts at playing her part in this spur-of-the-moment comedy were dangling by a thread, at best. " _Worried and outright adorable, actually_ ," she told herself in her thoughts, deciding it was fine that he knew that her anger was all a ruse.

William cleared his throat, then swallowed, "I thought we, uh, we would, um, I would have more time to, um, to…" He shrugged and dazed her with a sheepish smile. "Clean," he finished simply.

"I see," she managed to reply, her tone breathless and slow, emanating with ardor from underneath her air of scolding. She nodded, and then fully letting her giggling go, she asked through the mirth, "Did you have fun?"

The pure joy in him gushed out, little William Jr. answering her, "Yes Mommy! We saved a turtle!"

"A turtle?" she asked him, extending her arms to take the child from her husband.

"He gotted stuck on his back," the boy went into his exciting story, "He pobaly flipped over. He goed climbing up," the youngster lifted his whole arm high into the air to exaggerate the scale of the turtle's hill, "out of the ceek. But he felled down."

"Probably," she corrected as she nodded for him to continue with is tale.

"Daddy said so," he explained as she placed him, naked and cute as all heck, down onto the floor and then she covered his head to rub-dry his thick, black, curls.

The story continued from under the towel. "He couldn't get up," William Jr. explained.

"No…?" Julia caressed the towel over her little son's tender, clean, no longer quite ' _baby-soft_ ' skin, drying him. "I suppose not," she agreed. "It sounds like your turtle had gotten himself into quite a predicament," she added.

Suddenly, a sprinkle of giggles burst out of her as she caught a glimpse of her husband floundering about in the kitchen, gathering up the dirty clothing. Every effort he was putting into avoiding actually touching the muddy, soaked, clothes to his body, to any other surfaces, was failing miserably. Currently he held the filthy items out, far, far in front of himself, endeavoring to minimize the spreading of the mess, clearly rushing, hoping to draw as little attention to the whole ordeal as possible. It was, however, hopeless, for muddy splashes and speckles escaped outward in droves, like a flock of pigeons stirring upon being approached too closely.

Turning her attention back to her son, her eyes still admiring the view of her suffering husband, she asked the child, "And did this turtle live in a very muddy place?" the shape of her smile on her face, of her repressed laughter, affecting the diction of her words.

"Oh yes!" the small boy gleed.

 _Surely, the muckiness of it all only increased his boyish pleasure._

"And you and Daddy saved him?" she asked, "You saved the turtle?"

"Yes Mommy," he replied. "Daddy had long arms. Lots of sticks poking out. In the way. It was hard to get the turtle out. And he was so heavy. Daddy let me help. We put him down. But he stayed inside, um, inside his, uh…"

"Shell?" she helped.

In her little son's eyes there was a sparkle for having been understood, even happier for the joining. "Shell!" he almost yelled it – _that was the word exactly_. "Daddy said he goed inside his shell cause he was scared. Daddy said the turtle would come out. But not till he feeled safe."

"I see," Julia said. "And did you wait to see?" she pondered.

"Endlessly," William piped in from the kitchen, prompting another delightful giggle from her.

"Well," her voice concluded, "That sounds like quite an adventure, quite an adventure indeed, my little man."

 _ **And truth be told, it most surely was, albeit just a little one – a lovely little childhood memory from 1907.**_


End file.
